


The Knife in the Bedroom

by saltandlimes



Series: Whoever Fights Monsters [4]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Bloodplay, Evil Ben Solo, Gardens & Gardening, Jedi Ben Solo, Knifeplay, M/M, Monsters au, just accept this strange combinations of tags., questionable domesticity, references to past dub con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-16
Updated: 2016-10-16
Packaged: 2018-08-22 16:39:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8292685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saltandlimes/pseuds/saltandlimes
Summary: Ben comes back home early. Hux works in his garden and is a little needy.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Partially a fill for [huxloween's](http://huxloween.tumblr.com/) prompt "blood."

Hux sets the caf tin back on the highest shelf of the kitchen and settles himself down at the kitchen table. He wraps narrow fingers around the steaming mug and wishes, not for the first time, that he had a shirt that reaches up to his throat. His collarbones are exposed, the dip between them bare in the cold air. And he shivers slightly as autumn wind blows in through the cracks around the windowpane. He takes a deep breath, the scent of caf filling his mind. Today he needs to bring in the first crop of squash, needs to check on the onions. There’s wood to chop. 

He was in town yesterday, and he can’t go back for at least another few days. Ben… Ben wouldn’t like that. Hux shivers again, but this time it isn’t from the cold. Ben isn’t here, of course, but Hux has no illusions. He’d find out, he always finds out. And so Hux will be a good, good boy, stay here and chop wood and tend Ben’s infernal garden. He sighs. Well, not Ben’s garden. He takes care of it, does all the work. He doesn’t think Ben’s ever so much as touched a hoe. No, he sits on the porch, leers at Hux with a drink in his hand, breath stinking of ale and body loose and long. 

And Hux hates that. 

He does.

He takes a long sip of caf, feels the warmth flood through him. It’s cheap stuff, nothing like what he drank back on Finalizer, but he’s realized that it’s useless to compare. That was then, before all this. Before Ben. Before the house and the garden, and living on a shithole of a planet at the back end of nowhere. And now, he has caf, and a job to do, and none of it will happen if he sits here moping over his lost fleet. 

The jumper he pulls on is thick, rough knit against his skin. When Ben first brought it for him, Hux had stared askance at the rip down one side, the holes that do the fabric. But it’s the best he has, and Hux has to make do. He knows that now. 

The wind bites at his sides as he steps outside. The vines in the garden are heavy with squash, and he lugs two full basket's worth up to the house before he decides that’s all that need to come inside today. He’ll have to ask Ben to get him some recipes for squash - with no holonet access, he has no notion how to cook them. There certainly aren’t any ideas in the few paper cookbooks Ben has brought back over the past few months. 

The onions probably need a few more days, and Hux sniffs in frustration. His hands are caked with rich soil, and he rinses them off under the outside spigot, shivering at the chill air. He wipes them off against the rough weave of his trousers, then makes his way to the chopping block. Last time Ben was here he went out into the woods and felled a tree, then lugged it back on the decrepit speeder he sometimes brings to the house from his junkheap of a ship. Hux still hasn’t finished chopping it up into manageable pieces, and it’ll probably be a few more days before he does. The rhythmic thud of the ax is comforting, and he loses himself in the swing of it. 

“Tarran?” He starts. Spins around, and there’s Ben, stalking down the path from town. He drops the ax, starts forward. 

“Ben? I didn’t… I mean… you said you wouldn’t be back for a few more days.” He can’t help the surprise from whispering through his voice.

“Not happy to see me, Tarran? Aren’t you fucking glad I’m back?” Ben’s eyes blaze and Hux takes a few involuntary steps backward towards the side of the house. There’s a strange tone in Ben’s voice, a shuddering thread of instability, and Hux takes a deep breath. That’s not a good sound. He knows that by now. 

“Of course I am, Ben.” The moment the words leave his lips, he knows it’s the wrong thing to say. 

“Don’t you fucking lie to me, Tarran. You of all people. You’re fucking scared, I can see it. Well, good. You should be. They all should be.” Ben is in his space now, crowding Hux against the wall of the cabin. His fingers find the holes in Tarran’s jumper, slip through to tease their way inside Tarran’s shirt. Then he’s stroking at Tarran’s skin, and Tarran can’t help but arch up, so conditioned to Ben’s touch that he aches for it, even now. 

“Have you been a good boy, Tarran?” Hux nods. “I doubt it. But even if you have, it doesn’t fucking matter. Cause I can do whatever I want.” He leans in, whispers against Hux’s ear, and Hux shivers. Ben’s breath is hot against his neck, and he can feel himself starting to get hard as Ben’s fingers tease over his skin. 

“That’s the best thing about you, Tarran. I can fucking take and take, and you just let me have more. I can let the Dark pour into you, and you just fucking laugh.” Ben’s teeth sink into the side of his neck, and Hux moans. It hurts, Ben biting too hard at his skin, but it also feels incredible, and he wants more. He groans at himself. When did he start wanting this, when did Ben become right? What happened? 

Ben pulls him towards the house, slams him forward into their bedroom, and Hux catches another glimpse of his eyes. He shivers. He hasn’t seen Ben like this for months. Those eyes are blank, cold and dead as they look at Hux, greedy. They run up and down his body as Ben jerks Hux’s jumper off. Ben hasn’t been this far gone for so long that Hux has almost forgotten what it's like. 

“Get your clothes off, Tarran. I want you on the bed like the pretty little slut you are.” Hux nods, strips quickly. When Ben draws this deeply on the Dark, falls this far away from Ben Solo the Jedi hero and spirals down to whatever, whoever rests at the core of his mind, there’s nothing else to be done. Hux tried, those months ago when they first came here. Tried to push back, take as well as give. It never worked, and for a while, Hux hated that. But now… well now there is something he loves about this moment. Something he needs about Ben’s rage, selfish need to take, and take, and give Hux nothing in return. He lies back on the bed, spreads his legs wide to show Ben his hole.

He didn’t prep himself this morning, hadn’t expected Ben back so soon. Ben looms over him, stripped down to the stained tunic he wears under the smuggler’s clothes he always wears on this planet. His hip is cocked to one side, and he’s studying Hux. Hux squirms a little on the bed. He wishes Ben would say something, do something. Waiting for Ben’s newest depravity is always the worst part of Ben being home. 

Ben twitches his fingers, and the knife sitting on the bedside table flies to his hand. When Ben first brought the knife into the bedroom (after Hux threw it at him in the kitchen, and Hux tries not to remember that right now, doesn’t want Ben to catch the thought) Hux had tried to store it inside the nightstand. But Ben had screamed at him, and now the knife always rests easily at hand. 

Ben crawls across the bed to settle between Hux’s splayed legs. He’s testing the edge of the knife against one of this thick fingers, and Hux sees a bubble of blood well up. It’s one of his jobs, of course. _Keep the knives sharp_ \- and Ben had checked them all the first time he came back after that command. Hux always does it though, and Ben has never found reason to complain. Now, Ben sucks the blood off of his finger as he catches Hux’s eyes. 

“There aren’t enough of you left, you know?” Ben’s voice is almost conversational, but his eyes burn with icy fire as he bends over Hux. 

“Of us?” Hux squirms as Ben traces down his sternum with the flat of the blade. 

“Your little First Order compatriots are almost all gone. You know, Tarran, I used to find a new one to interrogate every few weeks. It’s been a fucking month.” The point of the knife drags along Hux’s stomach, and, horribly, he’s getting hard. He wonders what it would feel like if the knife bit in there. If Ben parted the flabby curve of his belly that Hux can’t get rid of no matter how much he works in the garden. But Ben traces the knife higher to rest between Hux’s ribs, even as he rolls his hips against Hux’s.

“Oh?” Hux doesn’t he can say anything more. Ben’s eyes are wild, and he himself is almost shaking with anticipation, fear, horror. 

“I haven’t fucking seen their blood in a month. I was getting frustrated, you know” The knife digs into his skin, and Hux whimpers at the sting. Ben smiles, a leer of a grin. “And then I remembered, I don’t need them. I have _you now._ ” He punctuates the last words by a swift jerk of the knife. 

Hux screams. 

It’s too abrupt, and he can feel blood welling up, running down his side to pool on the sheets. Ben laughs, high pitched and sharp. 

“You’re so pretty like this, Tarran.” He bends down and runs his lips over the cut on Hux’s side. Hux whimpers again. He can’t decide if it feels good or not, can’t decide what he wants. Ben grinds down on him, licks at the cut in his side. His tongue is harsh and wet, and somehow, it hurts even more than the knife as Ben works at the wound. 

“Ben, what the fuck…” And then Ben _bites_ him. His teeth dig into the edge of the cut, and Hux feels Ben’s cock jerk even as he makes a strangled, panicked noise. Ben grins up at him from where he’s bowed over Hux’s chest. 

“Do you like that, Tarran? Do you want more?” He sits up and pulls his cock out of his trousers. Hux’s eyes are watering now, and he can hear himself starting to make little choked noises. Ben smiles, teeth red and dripping. Then he’s working his fingers against Hux’s side, coating them with Hux’s blood. 

“Do you want something else Hux?” He glances down to Hux’s cock where it lies, flushed and hard, against Hux’s belly. Hux nods, even as he writhes against the pain in his side. Ben laughs. “I bet you want me to touch that cock of yours. I bet you miss my hands on it when I’m not here.” Ben starts to jerk himself off, and Hux groans. Ben is curled over him, on hand working fast on his dick, and all Hux wants is to feel Ben’s hands on some part of him. Ben chuckles, and Hux knows he’s caught that desperate thought. There’s nothing he can do to hide it, so he might as well beg. Ben likes that sometimes. 

“Touch me, Ben? Please? I need it. I do miss you. I need it so much.” Ben groans, but laughs again. 

“You’re such a whore, Tarran. Who would have thought the First Order’s general would turn out like this? Put you on a planet and make you play house and you just turn into a little slut.” And Hux flushes. He has to get Ben to shut up, doesn’t think he can stand to hear the truth right now. 

“Please, Ben. Please, please.” He babbles, mouth spilling pleas in a desperate attempt to get Ben to shut up. “Just touch me. Touch me, you fucker” Ben shakes his head and Hux sighs, ruts his hips against empty air. Then, just as Ben squeezes his own dick again, pants in Hux’s face, Hux feels a sneer curve across his own lips. 

“Fuck it, Kylo. Touch me!” And Ben comes, eyes flashing at the name and breath harsh against Hux’s skin. He spills across Hux’s chest, and Hux watches in awe as the white of Ben’s come mixes with the blood already there. 

“You little shit!” Ben yells. He slaps Hux, fingers flying to Hux’s dick. Hux laughs, wild, cracked, even as he comes at the first sharp jerk of Ben’s fist. Then Ben collapses down next to him, throwing the knife across the room to quiver in the wood of the fresher door. 

“You little fucking shit, Tarran,” he pants into Hux’s ear, bites again at Hux’s neck. Hux smiles. He slides a hand down his chest and coats his fingers in their come, in his own blood. It tastes sharp on his tongue, metallic and harsh, and he stares into Ben’s eyes as he licks it off his fingers.

**Author's Note:**

> Find more of [this au](http://saltandlimes.tumblr.com/monsters_au) on my tumblr, or come chat about other absurdities: [saltandlimes](http://saltandlimes.tumblr.com/)


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